


war and pieces

by macha



Series: Georgia on My Mind [22]
Category: Angel: the Series, Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-21
Updated: 2011-04-21
Packaged: 2017-10-18 11:50:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,711
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/188615
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/macha/pseuds/macha





	war and pieces

###  _B04.07.03 DragonLord Wars: in the mirror, meeting_

and the name of the tale is:

### war and pieces

it was before the time we used to call his own, until the witch declared we needed to move ourselves outside that box. Georgia and i had taken a little trip inbound to do a bit of Darla's dirty work, sorry, diplomacy. i couldn't help but hate taking this sort of job from Darla, because it came with so many rules attached. for instance, she made me wear those high-priced penguin suits, or a lot of boiled leather, just depending on the circs. a mixed blessing. now, when Buffy hove into sight, she that liked to take off the postArmani piece by piece with due prejudice, that might have qualified as a benefit gig. but in this case the Slayer had decamped to somewhere off in the other direction outside the starmaps, chasing a suspect i felt pretty sure she'd catch and, having the cause handy, could herself take apart piece by piece in the name of intel with approximately the same amount of relish. or then again maybe not. she's not like me all the time in the way she weighs things up, as i've got cause to know.

still, back to my main complaint, nobody ever asked Georgia to dress for the occasion. Darla just said 'call it a gift for the citizenry, when we make you keep yours on'. didn't sound like an order, maybe, but it was. give me a good clean evisceration in the field any day in preference to a dressing down from Darla, and that's whether it's about clothes or not. old habits. when we started out together She Who Must be Obeyed, well, i failed her at my peril, let's just say, and somehow in my head the lessons learned keep right on rolling. on planetfalls they still learn to call her the Dragon Lady, though, when she's not looking, just like they used to back in the day in Old Shanghai. she's accused me of spreading that one around the stars, but i don't even have to: everyone knows she's genus angel, but somehow sui generis the name still fits, and not only in New Shanghai and San FrancisAssisi. reap what you sow, my precious, i tell her, ducking and tucking on my way out the door.

anyway, Georgia and i had halved the district and split up to do the reconnaissance, once the trip package turned out to be not exactly as advertised, and as i was taking an alley shortcut there he suddenly was, larger than life, and not half as scrupulous. could have taken my head too, maybe, only he elected to focus on the banter and missed his best chance. and it went like this:

 _well, well, as i live and breathe, well no not really, it's the one who screws his partner, in the interest of getting the girl. and how is the girl, Spikey, cause i can smell her on you and it must be sweet? gonna be sweet, in fact, next time we meet._

BigBad, long time no see. must be the hour of the wolf. i should have brought the picnic basket. and i must say you're looking spruce. who polishes those scales, of a morning? well burnished, i'd say. did you get the symbiotes with the package then, or did you only spring for the cheap-ass model?

got all the latest armaments, my little man, and the cleaners fight for the chance. rides like a dream, this chassis. the soul sits up on top.

i noticed that was still with you. gonna win the pool on that one now, so ta for that.

what, thinking of leaving, so soon? why, i wouldn't hear of it. you should come home with me, check out the digs, play a game of fidchell, talk about old times. might have a jug or two, side of rosbif, whatever. my old mate. i can't get over it. tell me, does the girl say my name at night, in the throes of whatever it is you two get up to just to pass the time till i get back?

planning to get back, are you? hoping i'll draw you a map? security's pretty good these days, but take your best shot. your name's not said at all, except in Council, but i happen to know the missus on behalf of our establishment has sent you any number of social invitations, all sadly unanswered. it weighs on us all, that we've fallen out of touch like this. perhaps an outmoded address? i'd be delighted to convey your new one, so we can remedy the situation before the next party.

well, sure and begorrah, if it isn't our William. still in there are ye, standing proud and tall, well tall as you get at least, in yer nice wee suit? do you often negotiate alleys in that one?

i was just thinking about the outfit, and the change in plan. thought for a minute it might be better if i could go with scales, but now that i've met with you i've had to rethink.

well, aren't you the cute one? still measuring yourself against daddy then?

Grandpa Grump, you mean? these days i'm doing my measuring up against higher standards. and you? that grail cup part of your hoard yet?

William, tis my duty to tell ye i hear disturbing reports that you've commandeered some family members. my sire, for one; my git, for two. my son _for three. that's three too many. say it isn't so._

i'm grieved to see i've been disinherited. but there, y'see? you should come visit. do some catching up. been oh way too many millennia since we've chatted, and i'm sure they'd all love to spend an evening or two talking about old times. i'd fancy having a new family portrait painted in Darla's parlour, myself, to shine up the occasion.

legend has it the girls made a deal with the slayer, but i know them better than you. won't be a pretty sight, your quarters, when they decide it's time.

we'll see. i did go back for you.

i heard. always too late, though, aren't you Willie? to take your pound of flesh -

i never wanted that.

to get your due.

listen, AllFather. just this once. it's cold, where you are. i get that. she gets it too. but that's not all there is. we could be in the grave. we're not. let go of all of this. come home. if we didn't want you to, we wouldn't call. if we didn't care for you, we wouldn't persevere. if ever you let yourself fall, we'll still catch you. this game, now, isn't worthy of you. and you know we're waiting.

i'll never come, you must know that.

well, that's another pool that maybe i'm destined to lose. i generally lose, whenever i bet on you. but fox in henhouse mode, never gonna get you there. i've seen you with the feathers in your mouth before, and if that's where you choose to go with it, you can't come in. that outfit, it's too much to risk, see?

if i decide to come, you'll never stop me. and you watch, even knowing me they'll still be fool enough to ask me in.

well as to that, your sister knew you well to see you as clear as that, which was clearer than you had it at the time. but anyhow in this case you've driven all of your families away, or et them up, you're out on the moors in winter as a result, and since i'm your fool i get to tell you that and live to tell the tale. but you shouldn't mistake that soft spot we've got for the good in you for any inability to see you clear. but why'd you keep it then? the soul, i mean? easy enough to lose, if you really want to.

maybe i'm just a good Catholic boy, liking the penance.

and the permission that follows that?

that too. where i got my taste for convents.

must be hard, getting old. hardly a convent anywhere any more, since Old Earth died.

careless of Buffy, i thought, to lose the planet.

how'd you get out?

i wasn't there. offworld, making a deal. then, going back, i went to step across, but there was nothing on the other side. gave me an existential turn, i don't mind saying. had to start over again. and, funny thing, come to find out, once i found that other key, to the Aurelian vaults, they had all been cleared.

you had your hoard.

doesn't everyone?

well, let's ask Georgia. you must remember Georgia?

ah yes, i do. Georgia the Hungry, they call her now, in the circles i travel. a treasonous lot altogether, aren't you? well, sonny, another day when i'm not expected elsewhere, perhaps we'll try that hung, drawn, and quartered trifecta the damned English used to like to linger over, see if that game is worth the candle.

you can't take what i've got.

sure about that? might have a go, later. well, be good. i will be seein' ya.

when he gets jokey, it used to mean Angelus was in residence.

isn't he?

well, that's another tale. but then, i've burned already. what's the state of your soul, Georgia? do dragons have one, i've always wondered?....

but there you go, confessions of a misspent epoch or two. i never did know for sure if he planned that meet-cute. the worlds were smaller then, and everything was more confusing. penalty of living in a multiverse where angels become dragons, and dragons angels. the penguin suit never made me a penguin, so it was hard to tell what the armor made of him. and when you think about it, in our little company of all for one, only Andrew claims to be strictly human. hard to tell, sometimes. how to take one another's measure. how to keep score. when to answer the door. but after the ball is over, we are still all the same: tiny when standing in space, in time, and in the shadow of all the stars.


End file.
